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Shigaraki woke up to some truly god awful singing. He rolled over, tried to ignore it, and failed miserably.
Whoever was singing - he suspected Twice due to the fact that the song was punctuated by cursing and that in the half minute since he’d been forced to awareness the song had changed six times - was painfully out of tune. And the voice carried. Muffled by several walls, yes, but not nearly enough.
There was a shout of “shut your goddamn mouth before I force it shut,” from Dabi, but he was quickly drowned out by another voice joining in, creating an echoing chorus of bad singing. Was Toga trying to sound like a dying cat or was she just that tone-deaf? Shigaraki shoved his face into his pillow and prayed Dabi wouldn’t burn the building down, they’d just moved in.
He knew he should have picked a room far from the rest of them, but he was still wary of the former MLA and he didn’t want to close his eyes too long in case one of the thousands of Re-destro devotees got the idea that they could take down Shigaraki while he slept. Surrounded on all sides by those he trusted, he could at least sleep for a few hours at a time, when the combination of physical and mental exhaustion became too much and his brain blue-screened.
Eventually, he was too awake to be lying around wasting time, so he forced himself out of bed and through the motions of getting dressed. Appearances are important, Shigaraki Tomura, Kurogiri had often said. Shigaraki had ignored him, for the most part, but he did have a point. It was hard to be intimidating wearing nothing but your boxers.
The singing had stopped by the time he left his room and headed down the hall to the communal kitchen/dining room. Upon entering the room, he was immediately assaulted by the clashing colors of Christmas and the smell of something baking. Twice was no longer singing because his mouth was taped shut. Dabi, wearing a smug grin, was the likely culprit.
Dabi, who was wearing an apron.
Shigaraki tried to wake up. He had to be dreaming. But no, he was wide awake, unfortunately. So was Toga, who was suddenly in his personal space and grinning like a child on Christmas.
“Dabi is baking us a Christmas Cake!”
Dabi looked pained. Then he caught Shigaraki’s eye and his expression shifted to something more bored and neutral, which Shigaraki knew was an attempt to keep his eyes from screaming for help.
“Toga won’t let me leave,” he explained.
“And the apron?”
It was pink. Dusted with flour. It looked so out of place on Dabi that Shigaraki’s eyes were having a hard time focusing on it for more than a second.
Dabi’s eyes narrowed. “Just because I have to bake a cake or suffer Toga’s whining doesn’t mean I have to get my clothes dirty.”
“How sensible.”
There was a pause, in which Shigaraki watched Toga and Twice attempt to hide something behind the couch. Then the oven beeped. Dabi opened it, poked the cake inside with a toothpick, examined it, then shut the cake back in the oven.
It was all very strange.
“How do you even know how to bake?”
“He's refusing to tell us,” Spinner said from across the room. Shigaraki hadn’t even noticed his presence because he blended in with all the green strewn about. He was tangled in a string of lights, twisting the bulbs carefully and checking for faults in the wiring. “Compress thinks he has a secret double life as a baker.”
Dabi rolled his eyes.
“Where is Compress?” Shigaraki asked, looking around the room. Mr. Compress was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh.” Spinner looked suddenly nervous. “He’s uh…”
“Shopping!” Toga exclaimed. “Well, shoplifting, but close enough!”
Shigaraki narrowed his eyes. If Mr. Compress were just shopping, Spinner wouldn’t have acted so shifty. He tried not to care. As long as it didn’t draw attention to them, and as long as it didn’t involve Shigaraki, it was none of his business what the others got up to in their spare time.
It would have been nice to know about whatever it was that was happening right now, but only because he would have known to just not leave his bedroom until it was over.
“What is all this, anyway?” Shigaraki gestured to the room.
Twice said something that was indistinguishable through the tape and which involved quite a few gestures.
“It’s Christmas!” Toga translated.
Shigaraki knew what Christmas was. In theory, anyway. He didn’t know it was so...chaotic, in practice. Or maybe it wasn’t, normally. He was surrounded by several very chaotic people at the moment.
“Why?”
It’s not that he was opposed to Christmas, or even opposed to the others making a mess, or even to them hanging out without him. It was just that he was confused. He’d been under the impression that Christmas was a couple’s thing. Or a family thing. Not a “group of villains trying to destroy society,” thing.
“Because we almost all died and we deserve to have some fun after everything we’ve been through,” Toga said. “And what’s more fun than a party?”
Spinner nodded in agreement. Twice tried to shout through the tape. Dabi’s back was turned, so Shigaraki had to imagine the look on his face. Probably a scowl. Dabi didn’t think anything was fun unless it involved setting things on fire. Shigaraki eyed the oven warily. He hoped the sprinkler system was working.
Shigaraki wasn’t what you’d call a “party person.” Large social gatherings made him twitchy. People in general made him twitchy. He’d always been more comfortable in small groups, or better yet, alone. As lonely as he’d been since Sensei and then Kurogiri had been arrested, it was for the best.
But now that the League of Villains seemed to be a permanent fixture in his life, and now that he was living with other people again, and now that he was no longer focused on staying alive one more day, he had time to consider what the people in this room meant to him.
He wasn’t sure he liked the conclusion he came to.
Shigaraki rummaged through the fridge for leftovers and settled on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. In the time since he’d arrived in the room, Toga, or a clone of Toga, had brought in a large bushy pine tree and propped it against the wall. After stabbing herself (ah, so it was a clone,) the real Toga, along with Twice and Spinner, began to string the tree with lights. Dabi was whipping up a bowl of homemade frosting.
Shigaraki’s brain was still having trouble processing everything.
He didn’t think it could get any worse, but then Mr. Compress returned from his “shopping trip,” arms laden with bags of various sizes. He really had been shopping. So why had Spinner been so nervous?
One of the bags was emitting the smell of fried chicken. Shigaraki looked down at the cold pizza in his hand, then up at Mr. Compress.
“I hope you have enough to share,” he said.
“Of course,” Mr. Compress said, hand over his heart. “It’s not Christmas without KFC.”
Shigaraki wasn’t sure if that was true but he wasn’t an expert on Christmas. Also, on closer inspection, it appeared that Mr. Compress was wearing a Santa hat. It had taken Shigaraki’s brain a few seconds to understand what his eyes were telling him.
“Mmphmmph!” Twice shouted.
“I see Dabi managed to keep himself from strangling Twice.”
“It was a near thing,” Dabi said. “If I had to listen to one more off key rendition of Jingle Bells…”
Twice gestured to his mouth and again said, “Mmphmmph!” Or maybe it was, “Mphmmmph!”
“Someone please take that tape off Twice’s mouth before he starts hyperventilating,” Shigaraki said tiredly.
Toga bounded over to Twice and gently unwound the tape from his mouth.
“Santa!” he shouted the second his mouth was free. He pointed a finger at Mr. Compress. “You don’t look like him at all!”
“Apologies,” Mr. Compress said. “Santa has terrible taste in fashion. The hat is bad enough.”
Mr. Compress brought the non-KFC bags to the Christmas tree, which Spinner was now decorating with a random assortment of junk from the kitchen drawer because apparently none of them had thought to find real ornaments.
A beeping from the oven drew everyone’s attention.
“Is it ready?” Toga asked eagerly.
Dabi pulled the cake out of the oven barehanded and set the pan on the stove. Toga ran over, practically drooling. Dabi shoved her away.
“It needs to cool first, brat.”
“Awww but I want it now!”
“I don’t care.”
Toga stuck her tongue out at him.
“Perhaps now would be a good time for the gifts?” Mr. Compress asked.
“Oh!” Toga ran over to Shigaraki. “You have to close your eyes!” she told him, eyes glittering with dangerous excitement.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a surprise!”
Shigaraki sighed and closed his eyes. There was a sudden flurry of activity. The door opened and closed several times, someone sat something heavy on the ground. There was the sound of things rustling and footsteps hurrying.
Spinner said, “You too Dabi, You agreed to this,” and Dabi grumbled indistinctly in response.
After a few minutes, Toga said “Okay! You can open your eyes!”
When he opened his eyes, Mr. Compress wasn’t the only one wearing a Santa hat. Even Dabi had a floppy red and white hat perched comically on his head. The Christmas tree was obscured behind a pile of presents, but the lights were lit up and twinkling.
It said something, either about Shigaraki himself or about the others, that he could tell exactly which gift was wrapped by which person. They were wrapped in a variety of decidedly non-Christmas-present-wrapping-materials, with the exception of one box, which was wrapped in expensive looking paper and adorned with a large sparkly bow.
The fancy paper and expert wrapping job was clearly Mr. Compress’s work. The box wrapped with newspaper and far more tape than necessary was Twice. Toga’s had to be the terribly wrapped box with hand drawn smiley faces and hearts and Merry Christmas Tomura! written on the sparkly birthday themed wrapping paper. That left the large, generic gift bag as Spinner’s by process of elimination, because the plastic shopping bag that wasn’t even tied, showing a complete lack of care or effort, was obviously Dabi’s.
“Merry Christmas!” they all said with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
He hadn’t gotten them anything. Should he have? It’s not like they would have expected it from him, right?
Spinner seemed to sense his unease. “It’s alright, Boss. You’ve been so stressed lately, we just wanted to make you happy.”
“Speak for yourself, lizard,” Dabi said, but he settled on the edge of the couch.
“Happy…” Shigaraki murmured. He looked around at the people assembled around him. They were looking at him expectantly. Even Dabi seemed like he was unsure of how Shigaraki would react. To be honest, Shigaraki himself wasn’t sure how he was supposed to handle this.
It had been a long, long time, since he’d been given anything by someone who wasn’t trying to manipulate him.
“Start with mine!” Twice said, breaking him his thoughts. “No, save me for last!”
Shigaraki started with Twice’s gift so that he wouldn’t have to keep fighting himself trying to decide. It took a while to find the edge of the tape, and it was frustratingly difficult to open with only seven fingers, but after several minutes of struggling and waving off Toga’s repeated offers of a knife, he got the box unwrapped.
Inside was a plain white mug with the words “World’s #1 Boss” in bold, black lettering printed on the glossy ceramic. He lifted the mug carefully out of the box and set it on the coffee table.
If it had been from anyone else, it would have been a joke. From Dabi, it would have been an insult. But it was from Twice, and that made it almost painfully genuine.
“So do you like it?” Twice asked nervously. “I think it’s a terrible gift.”
Shigaraki pointed a finger at the mug and looked each of his companions in the eye, his gaze lingering longest on Dabi.
“If I catch any of you using this mug you’re going to regret it. It’s mine.”
Dabi held his gaze, the faintest twitch of his lip showing his amusement.
Shigaraki opened Spinner’s gift next, because he was looking greener than usual. His gift bag contained several smaller bags inside. The first contained the latest video game console. He’d completely forgotten the release date had past. It must have happened sometime during that month of no sleep in the mountains. The second bag contained a stack of games. And inside the third bag was two controllers.
“I thought we could...play together,” Spinner said with some hesitation.
Shigaraki had never played a game with anyone, except over the internet. He imagined it; he and Spinner sitting next to each other on the couch, teaming up to destroy the enemy. It wasn't a bad image.
“Yeah,” Shigaraki said. “Okay.”
Spinner beamed, and Shigaraki felt his own lips tug upwards.
“Me next!” Toga shouted. “Me next!”
She shoved her terribly wrapped box at him. It was heavier than he expected. Shigaraki unwrapped the box. No, not a box, a cooler. He lifted the lid. Inside were several pouches of blood, labeled with Toga’s cutesy handwriting.
“What…”
“You would not believe how tricky it was to get those!”
Shigaraki lifted one of the pouches from the cooler and turned it over in his hands. His mind was already forming plans and strategies. Toga looked immensely pleased with herself.
“Toga…”
“Hey this is basically a gift to myself!” She eyed the blood bags hungrily. “I can’t wait to get that blood inside me.”
Shigaraki shook his head. You could always count on Toga to be, well, Toga.
“Okay,” Shigaraki said, placing the pouch back in the cooler and closing the lid. “Which of you wants to follow that?”
Mr. Compress lifted a hand. “I will.”
He placed his gift on the floor in front of Shigaraki and then with a flourish, several more boxes appeared out of thin air.
“Damn,” Spinner muttered. “Way to show us all up.”
Mr. Compress tapped the shoebox sized box on top. “Save this one for last.”
Shigaraki started with the largest of the boxes. He took off the bow and stuck it to Toga’s head. She pouted, but didn't remove it. Then he slid his fingers under the paper. The impeccable wrapping was satisfying to tear apart. The cardboard box under the paper offered no hints, so he wasted no time in taking the lid off.
Inside was a high quality suit.
He opened the next box. A silk tie.
He shifted uncomfortably. Appearances are important, Shigaraki Tomura, Kurogiri’s voice echoed in his mind for the second time that day. But he’d never dressed to impress before. It felt like a lie. It felt like playing dress up. Sensei was the one who wore a suit and tie. Shigaraki was the monster under the bed, and monsters didn’t wear suits.
But he had people looking to him now. People who looked at him and expected calm and order and who were used to a businesslike approach to villainy. He needed those people, like it or not. He couldn’t tear down the world with just society’s rejects, though he wished he could. They were much more pleasant to spend time with.
He reluctantly opened the next box and pulled out the contents. It was a coat. A badass blood red coat, to be specific.
“Ooooooh,” Toga cooed admiringly. “You have good taste, Mister!”
The tightness in his chest loosened. Mr. Compress knew him. Knew that this was an adjustment. Knew the balance Shigaraki had to maintain, between the image he needed to present to his followers and the person he really was.
He felt a little better.
The last box, the shoebox sized one, contained, unsurprisingly, shoes. They weren’t fancy shoes like he had expected, though. They were bright red. The exact same color and style as his old pair, but clean and whole, not tattered and beaten. The soles were fresh, the laces tight.
He hadn’t realized how...off , he had felt the last few days, trying to present an image of competency to his new followers. But looking at these shoes, he felt more like himself. He swallowed, fingers brushing over the canvas.
“Your look wouldn’t have been complete without them.”
“Thank you,” he said. “All of you.” It came out more genuine than he’d intended.
Mr. Compress bowed his head in acknowledgement. Spinner blushed. Toga smiled like she wanted to eat him. Twice said “No problem, asshole!"
He turned his gaze to Dabi.
“Saved the best for last,” Dabi said.
“I’m surprised you got me anything.”
Dabi shrugged and tossed his plastic shopping bag in Shigaraki’s lap. Shigaraki opened the bag and peered in. He looked up at Dabi. Back down at the bag. Back up at Dabi.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What is it?” Spinner asked.
“Is it empty?” Twice added.
Shigaraki pulled an All Might action figure from the bag.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, not at all.”
Shigaraki clenched the toy in his fist. All Might’s voice echoed from speakers on the back.
“I am he-”
The toy didn’t get a chance to finish saying All Might’s catchphrase before it fell apart in his hands and fell to the floor as dust. That small burst of destruction eased the flash of anger he had felt.
Dabi smirked. “Feel better? There’s more where that came from.” He tossed something small to Shigaraki, who caught it. A key, to one of the empty rooms down the hall. “I bought out the whole inventory. Room 237 is stuffed floor to ceiling with all the All Might merch your violent little heart desires.”
All other questions faded as a new one emerged.
“You bought it? With what money?”
“Don’t worry your crusty little head, it wasn’t our money,” Dabi said cryptically. Shigaraki bristled at the word ‘our’ because since when did Dabi have equal claim to anything?
“See?” Mr. Compress said. “Secret celebrity baker.”
Shigaraki ignored him, still looking at Dabi’s smug expression.
“Why?”
“Because you can’t get to him right now and you can only kill him once anyway. And even if you did, you have more anger than can be sated with one kill. You need somewhere to direct it. You did feel better, turning him to dust, right?”
He did. He wasn’t going to admit that though. Dabi gave him a knowing look anyway.
“Burning things to a crisp is cheaper than therapy. Figured it would be the same for you,” he said. Then he stood up abruptly. “Now if we’re done here, I’m going to go ice the cake. It should be cooled off enough.”
“That was weird,” Twice stage whispered to Toga. She nodded, staring curiously at Dabi’s back as he began decorating the cake.
Shigaraki slipped the key Dabi had given him into his pocket, wondering which hero’s merch he was buying to make himself feel less angry. Then he surveyed the other presents assembled in front of him. They had all put thought and care into getting him the perfect gift. He never asked for this. They did it on their own. They put together a whole Christmas because they wanted to spend time together and they got him gifts with no expectation of anything in return.
He didn’t deserve this. Christmas was a holiday to spend time with the people you loved, and everyone he ever loved was either dead or locked in Tartarus. He didn’t deserve whatever they felt for him.
Toga was perched on Mr. Compress’s shoulders as she tried to affix a star made of taped together knives to the top of the tree. Dabi and Twice were bickering about how to properly ice a cake. Spinner was watching them and munching on fried chicken and laughing.
Shigaraki’s throat felt tight and his heart was beating harder than should have been possible and something was wrong with his eyes.
“You okay, boss?” Spinner had joined him on the couch and he hadn’t even noticed.
Shigaraki swallowed. His face felt hot and wet.
“Want to set up one of the new games while Dabi gets the cake ready? I bet I can beat you.”
Shigaraki wiped his eyes.
“Yeah right,” he said, but accepted the controller Spinner offered him.
Twice began to sing another song, and when Toga joined in, nobody stopped them. Mr. Compress added his own pitch perfect baritone, Spinner contributed a surprisingly beautiful soprano, and even Dabi began to hum along.
Shigaraki had thought Christmas was a time to spend with your loved ones, but perhaps he could spend it with his friends instead.